Regret

Sitting in an awkward chair in the hospital's reception area, I shivered. The cool air from the vent above poured down the back of my neck and I tightened my jacket's collar.

A young boy pulled a tainted yellow keyboard out of the wicker bin and handed it to his mother, expecting her to know what to do with it. She took the toy and had his hands covered in quick drying sanitizer in less than five seconds, and he was crying in three. A short reprimanding later, I was forced into a conversation.

She assumed I had kids. I'm thirty, and after all, that is what you do when you are thirty. You either have kids or you are left out of the clubhouse, and the members assume you are infertile or aren't married. She was right, though.

One, I told her. I really didn't want to talk to her, but she pressed.

She's six, her name is Jess.

She didn't get the hint.

Her name was Laura, and her still sobbing son was Eli. Her husband was there for an x-ray. He'd fallen off of a roof at work, because that's what he does.

He falls off roofs?

No, she laughed, he puts on shingles.

I then had to tell her what I did, and what my wife did, and why she wasn't sitting next to me. My wife had been in Toronto at the time having dinner with some executives that flew in from London, leaving me and Jess together for the weekend. Besides, she told me, I needed to spend more time with her. I should have listened.

Laura became uneasy, I assumed she discovered the reason for my visit to the hospital. My wife is in Toronto, and I'm here, so that leaves...

Is she ok? What happened?

I hated myself for it, but now I was obligated to tell her. In spite of my wife's wishes, I had set up a sleepover for Jess at her friend's house. There had been a Giants game on that afternoon, and I was having some friends over to watch it. Football, wings, and drunks aren't exactly a six year old's scene.

Anyway, I drove Jess to her friend's house and went home to set up. Midway through the third quarter I received a phone call from the hospital telling me about an accident. Apparently Jess had gotten sick and wanted to leave, and on the way back to our house, their van was it head on by a trucker watching a portable TV.

And here I am.

I took a deep breath, now thankful for the cold air from the vent.

I told Laura that Jess was in the operating room and I was told to come out here and wait for news. Meanwhile, Eli occupied himself with another one of the grubby wicker bin toys, hiding it from his mother.

The rest of the conversation stopped when a doctor appeared in the doorway and motioned me over.

Laura sat in her chair and watched my mouth fall open.

No...no...not Jess...
There's been a complication.

Not my baby...I should have listened...

Laura pulled her son away from his toys and held him close, and I envied her. I looked at her through a sheet of tears, and she got farther and farther away. The sound of my voice was drowned out, and the collar on my jacket felt too tight. Am I out of the club?

On the floor of the hospital's reception area, I shivered. Forgive me, baby.